


Strength

by Paresse



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Anemic Meis, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, The Promotech Engine Fucking Sucks, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paresse/pseuds/Paresse
Summary: Meis is always the strong one. The steady burning coals. Guiera's the spark, the quick way leaves light up, hot and fast.Well... Now it's Gueira's turn to burn a little longer.
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Strength

“Gueira…?”

Silence. Meis has nothing but the sting of metal on his wrists, his ankles, his waist… and the cold shine of the glass in front of him. 

He’s alone.

He whimpers quietly, staring at the foreboding, deep red cube in the center of all of it. He can’t tear his eyes away from it. And when he does he wishes he hadn’t. He sees the walls.

Lined to the brim with containers like the one he was in. 

He can’t breathe. Is this thing air tight…? No way.

His breath comes faster and he tugs at the cuffs. He’s panicking. He hasn’t panicked like this in a long time.

“Gueira…??” He calls out again. A mechanical squeal. A thud.

“Meis???” It’s muffled. But that’s him. His spark. His kindling.

“Guiera!!” He hates how his voice cracks, but he can’t stop it, not with tears flowing now, “Guiera, are you okay??”

“Y-Yeah, Meis, I’m fine…!”

\---

Gueira's heart broke. He’d never heard Meis like that. His strong, even flame. The steady burn of a hard cedar log. Voice cracking and hurt, gasping for air.

“Y-Yeah, Meis, I’m fine…!” He hesitates. What does he even say? What did Meis always say to calm him down? _“We’re_ fine. H-Hey, we’re gonna be okay.”

He can hear a thud, clattering. Is Meis… Shit. “Meis, babe… Meis, calm down…!” He had to be the cool one this time. He bit his lip, “Please don’t hurt yourself…” He ignores the bite of metal against his wrist. He can’t care about that right now. The clattering slows and stops, “Don’t wear yourself out…” 

“Gueira… Gueira, I can’t… I can’t breathe…”

It comes fast, in short, hard bursts. He’s hyperventilating.

“Meis, you’re breathing too fast.” Fuck, “H-Hold your breath for a few seconds… Like you taught me.” He tries to remember. Something... Anything!

\---

Right. Right… Meis stops, holding his breath. Count to ten, Meis.

One... Two… Three…

Four… Five… Six…

Seven… Eight… Nine…

...Ten…!

He slowly lets out his air. It shakes, and he immediately wants to breathe in again. No. No… Slowly. Into the gut… A breathy laugh leaves him, and a fresh tear slides down his cheekbone.

“Wh… When did you get so strong, Gueira…?”

“The hell you talkin’ about, babe?! You’re the one who taught me…! You alright…?”

“No… No, Gueira, I’m not…” He stares at the edge of the pod. He doesn’t dare look up as he hears more thuds and whines of machinery. 

Breathe, Meis, breathe.

“...We’ll get out of here. Lio will break us out. I know it. Just relax. Save your energy…! Hell, uh, take a nap, hah!” Gueira’s laugh is forced, but… Meis can’t help but feel a little proud. Yeah… focus on that. 

Focus on Gueira.

\---

Hungry… how long has it been? Poor Meis can’t be doing well being starved like this, either. He’s too skinny. 

Gueira shifts positions, ignoring the way it rubs the bruises. He was trying to get some shut eye-- The whole pod shifts, and suddenly he’s yanked.

He doesn’t have time to process it. The spinning, the pain, he doesn’t know when he started screaming. Meis… is that Meis screaming?? No, no it’s more than just Meis... Anger courses through him and it only intensifies as his flames are ripped away from him.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts. When it does end, he hurts. His fingertips feel like they’ve been in ice for an hour, slowly warming again. He hates how familiar he is with that sensation.

A retch. Oh no.

“Meis…?!”

A shuddering groan. Meis can’t afford to lose fluids like that.

Fury lights him up and he thrashes, “HEY MOTHER FUCKERS!! AT LEAST FEED US SOMETHING YOU CUNTS!!!” He bashes his head against the glass in front of him. His flames can’t react to him. How could he ask that of them, anyways? After what just happened.

“G-Gueira…”

“Meis, don’t… You’re--” A cat walk extends in front of their row. He lets out a long, low growl at that.

\---

Meis’ head won’t stop spinning. What did he even throw up…? His eyes open just a crack. Hah, well, he didn’t get any on his shirt. That’s good… All down the glass, though. He feels a sick kind of satisfaction at that.

Gueira is yelling. His ears are ringing too much to hear the words, but…

“G-Gueira…”

His boyfriend’s words are softer now. He still can’t make it out. His eyes flutter back shut. He’s so tired… so cold… The glass shifts in front of him. 

Hands. He groans and growls as he peeks one eye open. People in white suits. Fireproof probably. He doesn’t try to test it. Examining him coldly. Making little notes. He doesn’t have the energy to do anything as he feels a prick in his elbow. An IV. His eye closes again.

Well… at least he can trust their greed to keep him alive. His eyes aren’t open but he can feel the darkness creeping in on the edges of his consciousness. He’s about to…

\---

“Meis… Meis...??” Gueira strains as if he can look out of the glass to see into the next pod. 

“He passed out. He’s anemic, isn’t he?”

He snaps his head to look at the petite woman in a full body suit on the catwalk in front of him. He’s quiet for a long moment.

She sighs, “Which matters more, your pride or your friend’s health?”

God, he can hear how dead inside she must be. He lowers his gaze to the grate of the catwalk, “Yeah. He’s anemic.”

She nods and makes a note, “We’ll add iron to his food.”

“Good.” He gives a stern nod--She gives him an exasperated expression--and then he narrows his eyes as she walks away, “And for the record, he’s my boyfriend!” He calls out after her. 

It’s a small victory when her steps falter, even if she keeps walking.


End file.
